


Humble Pirate

by bonnie_wee_swordsman



Series: Imagine Claire and Jamie Prompts [10]
Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 15:56:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11211345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonnie_wee_swordsman/pseuds/bonnie_wee_swordsman
Summary: Tumblr Prompt: it always bothers me that after claire saves marsali from the pirates, jamie doesn't give her any credit for being brave he just scolds or focuses on her wound. would love to see a missing scene where he thanks claire for taking care of his stepdaughter





	Humble Pirate

Tumblr Prompt: it always bothers me that after claire save marshali from the pirates, jamie doesn't give her any credit for being brave he just scolds or focuses on her wound. would love to see a missing scene where he thanks claire for taking care of his stepdaughter

Okay, lads and lasses: this falls fully into the category of _CANON REWRITE._  To refresh your memory on why anon (and I!!!!) get ragey about this: 

* * *

**CANON says:**

> ****_Voyager, Chapter 54, Diana Gabaldon_ ** **

  


> [….]

* * *

##  **FANFICTION SAYS…**

**“** Do you _honestly_ —”I choked out, absolutely, blisteringly, and _woozily_ outraged, “— _HONESTLY_ —think I went above decks in the middle of a sea-battle looking for—a THRILL?? A casual funtime  _adventure_?!?” 

“I THINK—” he said, snarling between clenched teeth, “—you’re so heedless and cock-sure of yourself, woman, ye somehow thought ye could be of USE and—”

“ _Cock-sure?”_ I gaped at him, hoping my face was contorted with exactly as much disgust as I felt. “Ohhh, that is  _RICH_ , coming from _you_ , James Fraser.” 

“This isna _about_ me, Sassenach—” 

I threw up my good hand. “Could have BLOODY fooled _me_!” 

“What this is _ABOUT,_ is—” 

 _“_ And _‘DO I KNOW_ _that I came damn close to dying_ ’?? Why, YES, Jamie, I had the *slightest* premonition of it, _RIGHT_ around the same time as I was being chased and slashed at by a cutlass-wielding maniac.”

My voice was hoarse with screaming and ragged from waves of pain but NOT meek. I struggled halfway up, panting, and Jamie (who had the absolute _gall_ to look exasperated) tried to force me back down. * _Tried_ ,* mind. “And as for ‘ _will I never do as I’m told’…”_ My head reeled with the excruciating effort of remaining upright, but I glared at him with all my strength. “…Lesson _*bloody_ learned _,*_  my _infallible_ lord and master. I’ll just sit obediently in the corner with my hands in my lap next time and allow your daughter to be _raped, *SHALL_   _I*?_ ” 

And _that,_ at last, got his attention, for he went as white and still as death. 

It only threw gasoline on my fire. “And YOU coming in here all— _looming_ over me all—and—banging your _fucking_ fists—” I panted and spluttered. “Not bothering to ASK me what happened or WHY I might have chosen to put myself in danger—Just—shouting and _threatening_ like I was no more to you than—And you— _YOU_ —Oh, Jesus H. Roosevelt _Christ_ , Jamie….” I was still spitting with indignation, but the pain was overwhelming most everything else, and I fell back onto the pillow as my vision began clouding over with black. “Did Marsali not _TELL_ you what happened?” 

“No.” Quiet. Restrained. “She—She’s been so distraught for ye, she’s scarcely gotten more than ten words out…” 

I waited, blinking up from my pillow. I could smell the blood on him, still—gunpowder—the sweat of battle— _fear._  

“Was the lass…” He didn’t meet my eye, but I could see the muscles of his face working as he tried to muster up the courage to ask it. “… _being_   _attacked_?”

Lord, the pain in those five words—his memories of his own trauma and that of those he loved; his fears and insecurities as a father; the terror and concern and love and barely-contained drive for vengeance over what I’d implied could have happened to Marsali. 

I wanted to be angry at him still. Well, and I _was_ , at that. I had every bloody _right_ to scold him into next year— _but I lowered my voice._

“Marsali got frightened when the cannon-fire started, and she bolted. It’s easy to forget how young she really is, you know? She was too terrified to heed me calling her back. I had to chase after her—Couldn’t find her or hardly even  _see_ in the dark—and I was shouting for her, _shouting_ , and I—I heard her scream and—” 

Jamie’s jaw clenched tight but he didn’t say a word, nor did he look up from the floor between his feet. 

“By the time I found her, one of the pirates—a _huge_ brute—had come down into the hold, grabbed her, and had her clutched by the arm. She was doing her best to fight him off, but he was triple her size and—” I heaved a deep breath to keep the blackness at bay. “—And I just….I had to get her away from him…in any way I could.” 

He looked up at me, and his eyes were still and bared to his soul. He tried to say something, but gave up, that gaze imploring me.

“So I slashed at him—cut off his toe, I think, and that set off a rage in him, naturally, and—” I shrugged, “—I couldn’t think of anything except to let him chase me, so I ran as far away from Marsali as I could—barely could see two feet in front of me, just—ran—and—” I shuddered, _violently_ , a latent panic attack, I remarked absently, as the remembered terror coursed through my body. “There was so much mayhem on deck, the only place that seemed safe was UP, somehow, and —I was—c-climbing the rigging—I thought _surely_ with what I’d done to his foot, he couldn’t climb—but he could, and he was gain— _gaining_ , and—If the bloody pe— _pelican_ hadn’t knocked the bastard off balance…” 

Jamie reached for me, to comfort and soothe me—but then he faltered, and shrank back, ashamed. 

“Jamie…” Shaking, I reached for his hand, a peace offering. 

He accepted it and clasped my hand tight, gasping a little as he released the control he’d held over his emotions. “I’m…” He leaned over me to lay his forehead lightly on mine, to cradle my head in his hands. Looming, no longer: he offered me his warmth and his comfort; and, more importantly, his _repentance_. 

“I’m so verra sorry, mo chridhe,” he whispered, kissing my face and sniffing as he thumbed one of his own tears from my cheek. “Can ye forgive me?” 

I started to say, ‘of course,’ but he couldn’t seem to stop from blurting, “I was—I’ve been half-crazed wi’ fear that you’d die, Claire—” Jamie’s face was indeed wild, searching mine as though disbelieving, every sight and second. “Lord, I _still_ am afraid that the wound—” He shook his head, his curls tickling my forehead. “But that’s no excuse for—for how I treated ye. And I’m sorry for it.”

“Well, no, it isn’t…” I ran my fingers back through his hair, still damp and dirty from the efforts of battle. “But thank you for saying it; and yes, I forgive you.” 

He made a little, soft sound—something between a sob and a sigh— and kissed me. 

“Perhaps next time…” My tone was light, loving, understanding, even if the message itself was difficult. “….you might start by assuming the _best_ of my intentions, rather than the worst? One capable adult to another?” 

‘I promise.” Such gut-wrenching regret and shame. “I’m sorry I’m—such an arse. Ye deserve better…. I’ll _be_  better.”

To his credit, he did not lower his eyes. They were looking right at me when all at once they brightened. “T’was verra brave and noble what ye did, for Marsali.” 

“’ _Noble’_? I repeated, bewildered.

“Aye. Ye put yourself in such terrible danger, for a girl not even your own— _Laoghaire’s_ daughter, of all people, who you’ve no great reason to love. Ye didna have to—” 

“For Heaven’s _sake,_ Jamie, do you truly think so ill of me? _”_ I felt the sparks of another bout of pain-addled indignation. “You think just because her mother happens to be a—” (raging, homicidal bitch) “— _misery_   _of a woman_ , I’d have left her to fend for herself?? To be—” 

“No, no, _no_ , _mo nighean donn_ ,” he said at once, sitting up and showing a hint of laughter (perhaps at my _careful_ epithet and perhaps the implied one, too), before his expression again went serious. “Jesus, _never,_ I only meant _—_ just—Ye _risked your life_ for Marsali, and it….”

He squeezed my hand again; his voice was thick and cracked as he said, “…Thank you. Truly, I.. _..Thank you. ”_

Not only for rescuing her, I thought, from the depth in that expression….

_For accepting his life the way I’d found it; all of it, after a notably rocky start._ _For making the most of the challenging parts we could not change._ _For not letting petty things get in the way of the *new* life we had before us._

I smiled and gripped his hand.  

“ _Always_ , love.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Just pasting some of the conversations I've had on Tumblr since posting this earlier today: 
> 
> Anonymous said: "I did really like the scene you did today for imagine but I didn't think Jamie was being that terrible in the original. It seemd like he was just scared for her just like you said and that cllaire understood that too"
> 
> MY THOUGHTS:   
> I hear you, and that seems to be the consensus
> 
> But with that said, even now, I still interpret the canon scene the same way. Yes, indeed, it’s easy to infer why Jamie is acting the way he is, but just reading the canon passage on the surface: 
> 
> 1\. he hurts her (when he pounds his fist) and claire doesn’t make a peep  
> 2\. he isn’t asking for her side of things—doesn’t seem to care   
> 3\. He’s focusing on how she disobeyed orders, as opposed to what her motivations were. I mean, heck, it doesn’t seem to cross his mind that she had a jolly good reason for putting herself in danger!  
> 4\. basically, he’s talking to her like a naughty child, not a grown-ass woman. 
> 
> So, yeah, I totally hear you, and we can all agree that the “Probably not” is such a Claire thing to say. 
> 
> …but just through the lens of “is this how adults in a healthy relationship treat each other?”,for me, it’s a resounding NOPE, particularly with Jamie all ‘man, how I wish I could BEAT YOU right now’; hence wanting to give a version with a bit more self-reflection on Jamie’s part, and Claire sticking up for herself. 
> 
> The canon scene feels to me just feels like one of those ‘come onnnn, DG’ moments where she’s giving into the romance novel tropes. Male aggression goes unchecked and is written off as “well, he just loves her that much.” Romantic in a sense? I guess? but do I want a man treating me that way, even when he’s just had a scare? Hell to the no! 
> 
> But anyway, I totally hear you. The scene was a satisfying one to write, and I’m still proud of it, so thanks for reading, even if it didn’t scratch the same itch as it did for me :) 
> 
> -Bonnie


End file.
